


To See With Open Palms

by IseliaDragonwill



Series: World of Ruin AU [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blow Jobs, Enemies to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 17:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IseliaDragonwill/pseuds/IseliaDragonwill
Summary: It wasn't the first time Ignis had found the Chancellor in his bed and it wouldn't be the last. Every time they found themselves together, Ignis saw a little more.





	To See With Open Palms

**Author's Note:**

> You ever have one of those things that you just need to get out of your head because it won't leave you alone? This was one of those things. I don't normally venture into smut territory. It's weird for me to write and just never feels...realistic? Sexy? But then a friend was just like...consider just grabbing a fistful of Ardyn's hair.
> 
> For those that don't know me, I have quite a thing for hair. Ardyn's hair in particular. 
> 
> I’m also very hung up on the idea of these two having repeated trysts during WoR. I feel like there would be some evolution to their relationship, but it would be strained and neither of them would truly admit to feeling anything for the other beyond the sexual aspect. Still I think the feelings are there and can see it happening. Maybe I’m just a sucker for enemies to lovers tropes. Also, there's not a lot of stuff out there where Ignis is portrayed as the more dominant one, so here we are. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

For Ignis, sight had become so much more tactile than before Altissia. 

He would never see the paths upon which he walked, but felt each pointed rock pressing into the sole of his shoe, each mound and depression of hardened soil making his already hindered steps unsteady. Shifting currents of air, merely a refreshing breeze on his face such a short time ago, were now invisible reminders of people passing by, of large buildings that stood where wind longed to blow, of places he mustn’t go lest he stumble and fall to the ground in an embarrassed heap. Shaken, momentarily deterred. And now without even the sun’s rays to warm his face and guide his way, he often found his cane to be his only friend.

Yet even for all his hardships, there were still small blessings to be found in places that only his absence of sight could have ever made possible. 

He would never see the patchy stubble that lightly scratched his inner thigh, nor the dusting of pink left behind in its wake, but could feel the hollow of a cheek where bone gave way to flesh. Pointed teeth painted a picture of tiny pinpricks of blood against pale skin, complimented by darker bruises where reddened lips dared to venture beyond kisses. The warm ghost of a breath and slide of a tongue, reminding him once more of the shape of his passion, heightened every sensation to new realms of pleasure. Demanding more, whimpering.

Of course there would be more. The man who unexpectedly found a home in Ignis's bed–however temporary–was always eager to oblige

The line of a jaw cut into his palm, as trembling fingers found a deep crease under eyes he could only remember because of how striking the warm glow of amber had been in contrast to the chill emanating from him. A danger; a warning to keep away. Curiosity had won in the end, despite their opposing goals and natures. He only wished he could uncover all the things those eyes had seen, things he could never begin to fathom, preserved in each band of color–cruel reminders of a tortured past.

Fingertips followed the arch of an eyebrow, always furrowed in a smirk or scowl. Even now they furrowed in concentration as a calloused hand stroked a length of hardened flesh along a trail left by swollen lips, while the nails of the other left small crescents on the line of Ignis’s hip. He leaned up, steadying his weight on his forearm. The heat pooling in his lower body was becoming harder to ignore; the heat that urged him to thrust his hips up and into the moist cavern that engulfed him fully. His breath grew ragged, mind spinning out of control with his body. This...he shouldn’t be doing this...this was wrong...this...

A shock of cool air on saliva-slicked skin jolted him from his thoughts. “Come now, don’t hold back.” That voice, like poisoned honey dripping from teeth and tongue, held him in a saccharine prison of want. Ardyn knew how hard it was for him to resist the allure and employed it to his every advantage.

“I...I’m close.” Ignis managed to choke out under his breath, a needy whine not far behind. He would fall again and fall willingly.

“Why not let yourself go then? Enjoy it.” 

Something softened in the expression beneath Ignis's palm, but his hand was led to a tangle of messy, silken hair before its secret was exposed. Yet when his leaking head was taken in hand and traced along a pair of lips before disappearing inside that warm mouth once more, Ignis thought he felt the outline of a genuine smile, one meant to be shared between lovers. No wonder he had tried to hide it.

If only Ardyn knew the things he could see.

Heat and want coiled tighter now, a spring about to snap. Fingers found purchase in rumpled bedsheets and wine-colored hair, as restraint was discarded at last in favor of chasing pleasures that surely should have remained forbidden. One final thrust sent him spilling forth, panting and trembling as he rode out the waves of release with Ardyn’s head held firmly in place. And when the cresting tide finally subsided and his grip loosened, only then was he left exposed to the chill of night once more.

An amused hum drew Ignis’s attention. “My, it seems even you are vulnerable to losing control, given the right encouragement.” He could feel Ardyn's smug expression against his thigh–narrowed eyes and a thin-lipped grin. “And to think you’ve grown so demanding in bed.”

Finding the hand at his hip, Ignis took a chance to rest his own upon it, smiling when tension relaxed to acquiescence. For all Ardyn's performative bravado, nothing was more telling than the tightness in every tendon, the near imperceptible tremble in his fingertips. He felt the fear that wound through veins and paralyzed every muscle, the fear that never seemed to reach his eyes. It would have been safer there, in the one place Ignis would never see again. How ironic.

“Would you have me stop?” A hand fell from hair and followed the line of a nose, a brow, a cheek, finding his answer in what Ardyn still tried to hide so desperately from blinded eyes. When would he learn that the real danger lay in every touch they shared, in the little ways gave himself away?

Or maybe this was what he wanted. An immortal being unable to express beyond facade, depending on a sightless man to tease out of him the humanity that had been long forgotten, through the tips of seeking fingers alone. 

And Ignis saw more in that moment than he ever had in his entire life.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://iseliadragonwill.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/FallenIsel)!


End file.
